Flight Cancelled
by igirisexual
Summary: They met in an airport, both on their way home. Yao finds her to be the most beautiful woman he has ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes on. Anya finds him to be an entertaining and charming young man. Unfortunately, fate will not allow them to fall in love. Chu/Nyo!Ro. Human AU.


**this is kind of a celebration fic ! wow its my 50th fic! wow! thats a giant milestone for me haha cires. so naturally i wrote what im best at. rochu.**

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She was the most stunning woman that Yao had ever seen. She was tall, with blond locks that hung down to her hips, framing a delicate face with absolutely gorgeous eyes. And he simply had to talk to her. Yao was currently idling in an airport, waiting for his flight. He was to be heading to Asia from where he currently lived, America, on a trip to visit family. He had nothing better to do than to chat, anyway.

"Hello," he greeted smoothly, putting on an American accent. "What's a lovely lady like you doing waiting here all by yourself?" The dazzling woman tilted her head, raising one of her kempt eyebrows.

"I am waiting for a plane," she answered simply, and as soon as she spoke, Yao felt some kind of relief. Alright, she wasn't American. He could drop the accent. Yao let out a little sigh, and shrugged.

"Alright, where are you headed?"

"What happened to your voice?" she asked, giving the tiniest of smiles on her slightly glossy lips. Yao noted that she ignored his question in favour of asking her own. "Weren't you an American?"

"I am from China," Yao huffed. "I didn't want to be made fun of or something if you were American. It's a trick I've picked up over my time here."

"How interesting," she cooed softly. "I am headed to Russia. I am going home, you see."

"I'm going home as well," Yao smiled up at her, admittedly a little flushed when she smiled back down at him.

"I see," she nodded, gently fixing her white scarf and dipping her head. "We may be catching the same flight. From here, I must take a route that stops in China to refuel."

"Taking a flight alone would be very bad," Yao stated. "It is an honor to even be in the same room as such a pretty woman. And to think, soon I will be on a plane with her. I feel very blessed."

"Oh," giggled she, alabaster cheeks flushing a touch. "That is very kind of you to say."

"So, what is this beautiful lady's name?" he queried, tilting his head.

"My name is Anya."

Anya suited her, thought Yao. It sounded strong, just as she was surely strong with those thick arms hidden beneath the sleeves of her coat. More than anything, it sounded _beautiful_. _Perfect_ was another adjective that came to mind.

"My name is Yao," he smiled, bowing. "The pleasure is all mine. Oh, I do have one question for you, Anya."

"It is nice to meet you, Yao," Anya hummed. "Please, ask away, as long as this question is not too personal. We did just meet, after all."

Yao faltered for a moment, and decided to go with his backup question. "What is your favourite colour?" His original query had been whether or not Anya had someone she loved. Yao did not wish to be an imposition or burden, after all! He wished even less to be an annoyance. His eyes did not fall upon a ring on her finger, however, so that removed a few questions he might have had to ask later.

"I like.." Anya started, but trailed off. "I do not know. I like many colours. I think the rainbow might be my favourite."

"What a cute thing to say," hummed Yao, smiling. "I think red is a nice colour. It is the colour of action and power, is it not?"

"Interesting," she nodded her head. "Now, Yao, I have a question for you."

"Ask whatever you wish," he enticed politely.

"Why are you spending your words on a stranger you only just met?" she chuckled.

Yao gave a brave smile. "Because I think you are very beautiful, Anya."

"I might be a murderer," she continued, quite amused by Yao. "What if you are flirting with a murderer?"

"I would not take mind," Yao conceded, shrugging his meek shoulders.

"Oh, but what if I tried to kill you?" Anya asked, tilting her head. "Would you take mind then?"

Yao shook his head. "As long as you gave me a beautiful smile as you sent me away, I would not mind that much."

"You are such a charmer," Anya giggled softly. There was an announcement from a wall-attached loudspeaker, and she fixed her bag. "That is my flight that they are announcing. Is it your flight as well?"

"Yes," Yao nodded. "Would you like to sit next to me on the plane?"

"Yes," said Anya.

They walked together to the plane itself, and boarded. Yao offered Anya the window seat. She refused, saying that Yao should take it. "I would ask why you are visiting home," Yao commented as he sat down and paid not a lick of attention to the flight attendant going over safety procedures. "But it is a question that is not hard to predict the answer to."

"I am going home to visit my brothers," Anya said with a smile. "They are very nice and I love them very much, even if they can get a little out of hand."

"I have many little brothers and sisters and cousins back home," Yao commented. "That is the reason I am going back; I am going to see them all and surprise them!"

"Oh, so you did not tell them that you were coming?" Anya laughed sweetly, tilting her head at Yao. "You are quite a funny little man."

"It will be a great surprise!" Yao grinned widely.

They flew for a while, making peaceful and very wanted smalltalk. Perhaps hours went by. Or perhaps they were only minutes passing. It was hard to tell, as both Anya and Yao were lost in their cheery conversations. They spoke of their homes, their favourite foods, and amusing jokes they had heard. Yao was taking quite a liking to Anya, as she was to him. It seemed that they fit like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Despite being polar opposites, they got along very well. Perhaps it was true what people said, 'opposites attract'.

"Can you hear that?" asked Anya, brow furrowing with worry. "There is an odd noise."

"Are you sure?" Yao frowned. "I cannot hear anything out of the usual." Unexpectedly, the body of the plane dipped to one side in a sudden and uncontrolled movement. It steadied up only seconds later.

"That is not normal," she said anxiously, fretting. "Yao, is the plane alright?"

"Don't worry," Yao said softly, putting his hand on Anya's forearm. "We probably just hit a patch of odd air."

There were a few minutes of peaceful flying, until the plane began to veer down to the side again. Anya had not noticed it, but she had grabbed Yao's hand in one of her own, and gripped onto the seat's armrest with the other. Yao did not have as much fear as she did, but was a little frightened nonetheless. The situation only became worse when people began to scream. A panicked announcement from the pilot only spurred on the lunacy of the passengers, even though it was requesting that everyone stay calm.

"Anya, breathe," Yao said quickly as he saw his companion begin to hyperventilate out of fear. The vessel was no longer simply veering, it was soaring downward, smoke spitting out from one of the wings. "Do not worry," he tried to comfort her, but he too grew increasingly frightened as the oxygen masks dropped down from above their seats.

"I don't want to die," she squeaked, voice cracking as she struggled to lift her arm to grab at her mask. Everything was going too fast, and before she knew what she was doing, she had torn the cable between the mask and the roof of the plane. Tears sullied her vision, and she simply gripped onto Yao's hand. This was it, she thought.

The plane crashed, to put it simply. Where it had landed, Anya was unsure, but the sides of the plane were dented heavily, and water started to fill the vessel slowly. It was hard to breathe due to her hyperventilating, and her neck ached from the whiplash of landing so badly. She felt up to her forehead, and her fingers became stickied from where she had slammed her head against the seat in front of her. Blood. She felt instantly faint, but stared about the plane to try and work out what to do.

The people in other seats were.. Oh. Many lay limp in their seats, their heavy glass windows shattered, and their faces or bodies littered with shards of glass. She only saw the sky outside for a second. Anya limply tried to move her arms, but felt herself glued in place as the sky disappeared and water burst in through the broken windows. "Yao-" she stammered, turning to face the man beside her. She had no time to speak any other words, as he forced his oxygen mask to her face.

"Y-" she went to cry, but found herself choking on her words. She hadn't seen before. Their window was not smashed from the impact or sudden change in altitude or velocity. But the seat in front of them, that window had shattered, and littered its glass backwards in the fall. "Yao," she whimpered, staring at him as he continued to push the mask up against her face. Anya aided in putting it on properly, although her hands were quivering.

A large fragment of thick glass had impaled his chest, and his entire front was stained red with blood. Yao was smiling as he had smiled when he and Anya had first met, only a few hours ago. "Breathe, Anya," Yao mumbled weakly, before he slumped, and his arm dropped.

"Wake up!" Anya commanded, although she knew it was useless. She was unable to hold back tears as she shook this man, who was almost a stranger to her, by the shoulders. "Wake up! You are going to surprise your family, Yao! Remember?!"

He did not move, and Anya knew her attempts were useless. Once she felt water lap at her knees, she realised that she needed to escape. "Yao," she mumbled weakly as she tried her best to undo her seatbelt. "You were-.." she trailed off. She did not even have the strength to say that he had been a good man, a hero. He was just a stranger, wasn't he? Forgetting about him wouldn't hurt. Would it? Anya fretted and finally undid the straps holding her to her seat. She tried to free Yao's – no, it was hers now- oxygen mask from its upper hold, but it would not budge. She did not wish to risk breaking it as she had her first. She left it.

Anya stood and tried to wade through the waterlogged plane, searching for some way out. What she did not know, however, was that the vessel was sinking within the ocean, and the water pushing in through the windows would not cease until the entirety of the plane was entirely full. Anya thought herself lucky a moment. She had survived when no one else had. Only as water reached her throat and pushed her up against the roof of the plane did she reconsider what was luck. As it filled her lungs, she no longer had the ability to think of her initial survival as luck or fate.

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**im best at rochu that doesnt end well :)**


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